I'm Trying Through His Letters
by Voidedstars
Summary: "It wasn't my damn fault; more like his fault for making the section." Tris Prior, bipolar journalist that resides in London. Head of the advice column she has her hands tied with letters from damned relationships. One day she comes across a particular email that might make her hate her job even more. His name is Four for all she knows, he's the one that changes her job forever. AU
1. Chapter 1

**This is a new fanfiction I'm starting; enjoy if you want.**

Was I insane? No not particularly, but I believe that I was getting there. Unfortunately everyone depended on me staying sane; I was having a difficult time keeping to those standards. I tried, oh believe me, I fucking tried, however my dedication was falling apart at the seams. I wasn't going to try to keep them together anymore. Although I've been known to go back on my word countless times. This situation wasn't going to be any different.

Enormous piles of paper stand haphazardly on my desk. They lean as almost as if something was pulling them down. I was waiting for that one day when they would finally give out and crash on top of me. I can practically imagine the faces of my surrounding coworkers; pieces of floating letters would drift over to their personal space and land on top if their computers, keyboards, heads. They would pop their heads up over the borders of their cubicles questioning what was going on. The situation would finally give me an excuse to have an emotional breakdown. Not like I wouldn't have one anyway; I seriously needed a lunch break.

"Are you heading to lunch?" Christina was a coworker that I disliked slightly less than the rest of the soulless people I call coworkers. You could almost call us close companions; _almost. _She was caramel skinned with short hair that was a darker hue of brown. She was also the best damn writer in this whole freaking establishment. I had a deep respect for her.

"Yeah, I need a break." She glanced over from her screen and over to my disheveled desk and nodded slightly. She understood.

"Save me a spot, I'll join you in a few. I've got to finish this article."

The 'faculty room' was basically an office that was never used. When I first started working here this didn't exist and workers were left to eat in there cubicles. Majority of them still do that anyways. The room was dreadfully plain to the point of depression. The walls were alabaster white and the room always smelt of sickly sweet burning candles. It really put a damper on your appetite. A refrigerator stood in the corner with a sign plastered on it explaining the 30 day rule; that's why I never put things in the refrigerator. On the walls posters hang with bold titles like **'Sexual Harassment in the Workplace' **and **'CPR Assistance Guidelines'. **

I hated this damn room. About ten minutes before I took off for lunch some guy by the name of Edward would take off for lunch. He ate rather quickly but all he ever ate was bowls of rabbit food. The guy was blind, well in one eye, so I had a lot of lax for this guy. But he would always leave his trash sitting in the same spot. Every. Freaking. Day. The bastard never gave me any personal problems but his lack in cleanliness really put me in a pissy mood. But to be fair everything put me in a pissy mood, as well as good moods, if you get my drift. My phone vibrates in my pocket.

Christina walks in only seconds later carrying her lunch bag that she used every day. She takes a seat in a spot that only moments ago had salad garbage. That seat happened to be one seat down from mine. Christina and I never sat next to each other. As I noted before we were no more than work companions; there was no need for us to be in that close proximity.

"What was your article over?"

"Oh, some high school tennis team that's going to the playoffs for the first time." You see Christina was the best writer here but I felt as if her department was as boring as hell. She was in charge of the local news report, A.K.A boring news. Although I always envied her in a way; not for her writing ability because my department didn't necessarily require for you to be able to write per say. But I envied her lack of work; Christina had an easy department. I had more difficulty with my department. A lot more.

My department was the advice column. Oh yes I was stuck with solving shitty problems for very unfortunate people. It was a nightmare. And at this exact moment I was backed up with unsolved problems. My phone buzzed.

"Why does your phone keep buzzing? Is somebody popular?" She gave a small smile after she said that. Hmm, interesting.

"No, it's countless emails for the advice column."

"Really? Can you read me one?"

"Why?"

"I don't know I'm just interested in hearing some of these people's problems. Maybe I can help you; you're a bit backed up?" This was the most interaction we've had ever. I didn't like it; we were simply supposed to be those two people who hated each other slightly less than the rest. That's all; now she wants to take a journey down and endless fucking rabbit hole called the advice column? It's utterly ridiculous, but I complied because deep down under this cold hard exterior that I put out, I didn't even want to lose our so called work companionship. So I pulled out my phone which was already backed up with email notifications. I clicked on the most recent one which was titled with '**?!'** "Okay here we go."

**Hey Tris, I sort of have this problem that's difficult to deal with. My life consists of an ab-**

I quickly closed the email and stopped reading. The words that almost slipped out of my mouth were frightful.

"Why'd you stop reading?"

"Um the email was cut off. Here I'll read you another one." And of course she didn't question the abnormality of the situation but I didn't suspect that she would. So I read her another email. But as I was I was thinking about the previous one in the back of my head. In all of my time working here with this company I've never received a problem with such magnitude. This wasn't where you came with real life problems. I solve stupid relationship problems, not whatever the hell that was. That was…I don't even know.

…..

I just sent the email. It was long, at least one thousand words. I wasn't sure she would be able to solve this one; this wasn't the typical relation/parents problem that the majority of her clients sent in. This was so much more. She wasn't my last resort; no I had one more after her that is the more practical choice for a problem like mine. But I just didn't want practical, I wanted to give this chick a chance. I sigh and lean back into my office chair.

"Four! I need your help with something, can you come here!" Damn, I really needed this to work.

**Okay that was the first chapter. Hope you liked it. Any questions, feel free to ask them. I anticipate on making the chapters longer as this story goes on. QOTC: how you liking the story so far? Until next time…**

**Peace&Love~MSC **


	2. Chapter 2: Sincerly

**A/N:**

**Thanks so much for the support I received for my first story! You guys are awesome! **

_Beatrice_

Turns out my boss was pretty pissed that I was delaying the advice column. Okay not pissed, more like enraged. It wasn't my fucking fault; more like his damn fault for creating the damn section. Unfortunately I wasn't able to voice that complaint; that would cost me job and I was already teetering on the edge with this man. However besides my awful job with keeping up with the high demand on advice, Christina received a standing ovation for her "emasculate job" with her articles.

A fucking standing ovation.

Not like I was I was jealous or anything, I knew Christina was the best in the business in this whole establishment. Best employee five years in a row. So, no I wasn't jealous, maybe glowing with envy. Which wasn't fair to Christina, as I mentioned many times before we were close associates. Not friends, associates. Which was enough for me to handle. But anyways Christina couldn't help being a really good writer and finding great stories to use her skills on. That's just who she was, which evidently cause me to envy her. But it also respect her; I was messed up severely. However I was able to put on my big girl face and congratulate her once the team meeting was over.

"Thanks, I appreciate it. I had no idea Max was going to that."

"You deserve it; you are the best damn writer here."

"Yeah, but a standing ovation? That was a little uncalled for. You really can't compare stationary writing to improv writing like the advice column."

"Hey don't worry about me, I deserved that. I know I'm behind on requests, anyone who has seen my cubicle can see that."

She didn't reply after that, she just gave me a sympathetic smile and that was the end of our conversation. They never lasted long.

…

The sun was starting to set once I was able to get back to my apartment, which, however took longer than I anticipated because I had to walk home. My cab driver reeked of alcohol which only mixed with the reeking of smoke that the cab itself emitted. We only went two blocks. Two fucking blocks and he wasn't able to keep the car in the lanes. Horns sounded towards us and that's when I decided that I wasn't going to ride any longer. To be fair I rode longer than most people would but I wasn't going to put my life in the hands of a drunk smoker. Not today at least.

"Stop', stop! I'll walk the rest of of the way." The bastard pulls over sharply before he unlocks the door.

"Your loss doll. Two fifty please." he reaches back with his hand to collect the money. His skin is split in more than one place and his nails which are cut dangerously short have a collection of dirt and grime underneath them. Absolutely disgusting. He looks at me through the front mirror. I'd never forget his hunched shoulders and his orange-red hair, the color of a carrot.

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

Of course my feet were throbbing in pain after the entire thing. Of course it was only work to blame; I was required to look nice which caused me to slip on little too small pair of heels that I had to walk back home in. I threw myself onto the couch and sighed heavily. It was a cliché move but a desired move nonetheless. Only was it then when I was laying tiredly in my stale aired apartment that smelled faintly of paper did I get the urge to go through my inbox. Specifically for a special advice email, one that didn't consist of sexually frustrated couples or unstable relationships that are going to end no matter what I respond. The one email that came from Chicago, Illinois.

_Tobias_

I wasn't sure where my head was at the day of our wedding. Kid you not our ceremony was nice considering the circumstances, and the reception was excellent. However now and then I get glimpses. I don't know what encourages it but I get them anyways. I receive glimpses of our wedding; she was happy, no doubt about that. I see myself smiling every once and a while. But when I compare myself to then and now I know something has changed. I wouldn't say I fell out of love but I'm not _so _in love that I can keep this relationship moving forward in a positive direction. The last thing I want to do is hurt her but now I start to wonder if this would hurt her as much as it would when we were _in love_, in love.

I don't know anymore. She's changed too whether she realizes it or not. She has become, and I say this with the most amount of admiration. She's become a little more like a bitch. Not one yet but slowly edging her way there. The demands start piling and I don't know if I can keep up. Or if I even want to. But I know her, she isn't like this. Maybe it's the marriage changing her as much it's changing me.

My family, no help and I rather not go into that story. My friends, well…let's just say they don't really like our relationship; the more feminine side of it. So the only thing I saw fit was to run to some other source of advice and that's where I stumbled across Tris.

Enough said. My life was…complicated, not horrible but complicated nonetheless. Many people looking in from the outside would say that I was miserable, unhappy. But truthfully I wasn't unhappy or depressed or any of those other things that would cause me to not enjoy life. I wasn't; maybe I wasn't enjoying my life as much as any normal couple would but really what is normal? What is enjoying life to its fullest? I sure as hell don't know and I'm sure that goes for the rest of the population. I still felt strongly for my wife and I was hoping if went the same way vice versa.

I wasn't going to spend my life drowning myself in my sorrows or waste time feeling sorry for myself. But underneath all this confidence and denial I was feeling sorry for myself. For my wife, for this poor woman in London that I just dumped all of my problems on. I feel sorry for anyone who associates themselves with me or wishes to. Because really all I was, was nothing at all. And I was going to feel sorry for myself either way.

"Tobias, do you mind helping me with dinner? I'm making your favorite."

"Yes, coming Shauna."

_**Dear Tris,**_

_**Look, before I get too in-depth into this letter I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance. Why? Because right now I am going to burden you with the most complicated yet frustrating letter/problem that you might have ever received and I'm sorry for that. Here it goes. When I was little my dad used to abuse me and well my mother went hiatus on us. But I'm going to skip over those unfortunate events because that's a story you can't help me with unfortunately. My real problem is that I'm constantly being burden with the fact that I could turn out just as bad as he was. And before my mom went mia, he use to abuse her as well. **_

_**I recently married and I feel as if we are slowly drifting apart and the more we drift apart I think I might become more prone to lash out on her. However I still love her and have a deep respect for her I'm more than sure our marriage can't be saved but I don't want her to get hurt in the process. I appreciate you taking your time to read this, if you did in fact read it. Respond when you can.**_

_**Sincerely yours, Four Eaton.**_

**Well that's another chapter for you guys. Usually people make Lauren Four's past interest but I wanted to think a little bit out of the box for this story so I picked Shauna.**** Tell me how you guys felt about that. You guys also got to see Four's letter to Tris. Merry belated Christmas or Happy belated Hanukah. QOTD (Question of the day): what did you like about Christmas the most? Until Next Time…Goal: 20 reviews**

**Peace&Love~MSC**


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